Fire in the Sage
by PeechTao
Summary: Sequel to Calamity Hitch: A massive heard of cattle is brought through the town. Now with nearly a hundred cowboys to deal with, and a group of bucks jumping the reservation after the cattle, the marshals have their hands full trying to keep the peace. But matters become even more complicated when a figure from Hitch's past drives in as a shotgun for the cattle drive. PROMO CHAP!
1. Chapter 1

**here is a teaser chapter to my latest novel, due to be finished sometime this summer. I have been working hard to hash this story out in an original, yet true-to-the-character way. I fear i may have strayed from that traditional Robert Parker voice i have come to embrace, but i hope that you will still enjoy:**

* * *

_Brief Synopsis: Everett Hitch has never thought much on his life before Virgil Cole. But sometimes a past can sneak up when least expected and change our future for the better, or lead us toward a Hell we couldn't imagine. Now a family Hitch left broken in his past seeks him out. Have they come to dredge up the horrors of his military days? Or are they here to heal the deep wound that scars his soul? Another rousing adventure full of cowhands, gun fights, Pony and Laural finely getting married?, and the always colorful support of Chauncey Teagarden, Frank Rose, and Cato Tillson. Virgil and Everett's friendship will be put to the test again, as Virgil must fight to save what is left of Hitch._

DIRECTLY FOLLOWS CALAMITY HITCH

**FIRE IN THE SAGE**

_By PeechTao_

_We crept up on the camp, looking out from the edge of the hill into the deep gorge below. I was flat on my stomach. My rifle was in my hand. It was night. I wasn't worried about the men seeing the moon glint off the exposed metal. They were going to be dead before I allowed that to happen. So I sat and waited for the signal. _

_Across from me was the Colonel. He had inched down the side of the ravine on foot. His boots left stinking next to me. He figured he'd be quieter without them. Like an Indian. I didn't argue. Knew not to._

_We were after my wife, Christie. She was just a kid. We both were. The colonel was her father, my mentor. We'd met up during the war in the west. That seemed so long ago now. Six months out of war and I still call him Colonel._

_The drunks moved sideways around the firelight in the shadows of the ridge. _

_I brought my rifle up to my eye, staring down at the men. I wanted just to see one glimpse of her, a single flicker of life from the heads of women huddling in the corner of the rocks. It would never happen. _

_I tried to wipe the sweat from my eyes on the back of my hand. They were both covered in sand and grit._

_Below me the Colonel, Charlie Ward, inched even closer. I had to bite back a shout as the pebbles of the ridge side began to slide out around him. My soul tore as the sound reached up to me. But miraculously the drunks never moved._

_I breathed a silent sigh of relief._

_Charlie waved a hand above his head, twice, and I brought the rifle scope to my eye again. My gun was custom. An 1874 Sharps Buffalo with shotgun slugs. I was never that good of a shot, but when it came to firing this rifle, I didn't have to be good. Anything in a three foot radius was cut in half. To my right was my second rifle, a Yellow Boy. On my left were my army colts. At this range the Yellow Boy would hardly be effective. The colts wouldn't reach passed the first lips of rocks below me. I might be able to hit Charlie with them, but that wasn't likely to be necessary. So the colonel stuck me up on the cliff edge looking down, hoping I could spread the others' odds a little thin._

_A second signal._

_He was ready to go and so was I. We'd been beating this desert dry going on four months looking for the Ward girls. Kidnapped in a raid back in Johnson City, we'd put in or resignations with the Army and headed off to find them. The youngest, Alice, wasn't even ten years old by now. Christie was eighteen. We were married last spring at the Colonel's place._

_Was it just last spring?_

_My right eye squinted down my gun barrel. I focused on a group of five. Three of them were Breeds. Half Apache, half whatever else. Probably Americans. Another two Apaches were keeping watch on the women. There were sixteen of them all together, all huddled and filthy. Some were half naked. A seventeenth was dragged off under the overhang directly beneath Charlie. I could hear the drunken Texans laughing and hollering. I could hear the woman screaming._

_It wasn't my Christine._

_Charlie's hand was raised over his head. I waited for it to drop._

_Somewhere a coyote yipped in the night. The moon peaked out from behind the grey blue clouds to lighten up the ravine. I pulled in a breath and waited._

_My gun exploded forward even as Charlie's hand fell. The world rocketed to life all at once. Three of the breeds fell over backward. They would never make another move. I jacked the rifle and fired again for the remaining two I missed. Below me Charlie scattered the two Apaches. One was shot in the chest._

_The drunks came out from under the overhang. They were focused on me at first, firing their colts as it they would reach. I knew they would not. So did Charlie._

_The Colonel sprung to his bare feet and shot the first two men. A third and forth turned their heels and ran for the horses tied a few hundred yards off. They never made it so far. Between my rifle and Charlie's Winchester we cut the men in half._

_I set the Sharps rifle aside, packed my colts in their holsters and made my way down the steep slope to Charlie. We'd scan the area together; make sure the men were dead or dying before we went for the women. No use in getting back shot by being lazy and stupid, the Colonel would say when we were out soldiering. He had a lot of advice that just made sense. I went left, knowing he'd be sweeping the valley floor on the right._

_It came as no surprise why the men took refuge in the craggily ravine. It was a veritable fortress. Small snags of black rock jutted in and out of the canyon wall. Plenty of places for an ambush, or to hide the occasional gun hand. Plenty of spots to hold up and create a virtual impasse. But the men hadn't done any of that. They got lazy, thinking no one was after them when really we had been on their trail since leaving San Marcos, just six miles out of Johnson City, three months back._

_Three months waiting to move. Three months watching her without being able to get close to her. I took my eyes off scanning the rocks to look at the women. I wanted to pick Christie out of them. Find her beautiful face and blond curls swinging about in the thick wind._

_A gun fired close to my ear and I ducked down and away out of reflex. I pulled my colt, but it was useless. Charlie had done that already. The man hidden between the rocks was dead before I was done facing him._

_"Getting sloppy, Everett." He said. "Don't do me a bit of good if you get yourself killed."_

_I nodded. "I know it."_

_"Rest of those rocks clear?"_

_I looked around and glanced under the rest of the overhangs. "Yeah, it's clear."_

_Together we went over to the women._

_It was no wonder I could not pick my Christine out from among them. They were all the same battered looking heaps of flesh. Broken like a stallion turned gelding. They were ash-faced and bruised. Torn apart from skin to spirit. There was nothing left of them inside or out._

_"Alice? Alice, baby, that you?" I heard Charlie on my left. He'd found his youngest. She screamed as he touched her._

_"Alice!"_

_She beat against him with her small fists. It was all she could do to defend herself. I never saw Charlie with emotion. Not now, not ever. I released the gag on one of the women. She crawled back, away, terrified._

_"Christine?" I asked. "Anyone of you Christie? Christie Hitch? Or Christie Ward? Anyone?"_

_The women were terrified. They hardly realized we were meant to be protecting them, saving them from whatever they had gone through at the hands of the slave smugglers. I could not help feeling a bit desperate as they screamed and clawed across each other to get away from us. I did not see Christine with them._

_Desperately I turned to see how far Charlie had gotten with Alice. They were sitting together; she was wrapped in his arms, still crying hysterically. His chin rested on the top of her head. His blue eyes looked at me. "Christie?"_

_"She aint here." I said._

_"She's got to be." He said. His voice was even. Not shouting. Not desperate._

_"You see her?" I did shout._

_"No, I do not."_

_"Neither do I! Came all this way and—Colonel I—" I didn't know what to say._

_The moon peaked out from behind the cloud lines. It traced the rock valley in silver and blue. The girls were huddled like wild animals. Feral dogs clawing at one another to escape whatever may come next. Sixteen of them. All captured wretches. Someone's daughter, someone's wife._

_Sixteen lost souls._

_My eyes closed, and my body shook to the soul. I turned back the way Charlie had come into the valley. By the ridge, under the overhang._

_Even from my distance, I could hear the moans. A woman in pain. A woman about to die. I told myself already it was not Christie. Not my Christie. My girl. My wife._

_The overhang was made of whittled down rock from the dry river bed not far from here. The edges were sharp, but the cavern itself tall and jagged. It was large enough at the mouth for me to stand up in. That would not matter for very long. It was on my knees the minute I saw her._

_She was nearly naked. I grabbed whatever was around me, a blanket, a saddle pad, and wrapped it over her body as I cradled her against my chest. I screamed her name in the midst of the night. But she did not answer me. I had watched this happen to her. I never even recognized her scream._

_I heard someone come up behind me. It took a little while to realize it was Charlie. He had Alice in his arms._

_"Is—is she dead, Everett?" he asked. His voice was strange to me. I never heard it with emotion._

_I rocked her body back and forth._

_"Everett?"_

_My teeth bore into my lips. I felt the tears flood down my face._

_I did not answer him._

_"Everett she's my little girl!" his voice raised, very little, a desperation hinged in the end._

_A sob caught in my throat._

_"Everett!"_

_:-:-:_

_I woke from my bed with a start._

_I got up on my elbows and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes with the back of my hand. By the time I looked up again, the Colonel was already gone. Whether back to his bunk, or to check on the horses, I did not know. For now I was content to sit up in my bunk and do a load of nothing at all as I got myself to wake up._

_The sun still had yet to come through the cracks in the wall behind me. I wondered about what time it was by now. Probably still early, sometime around four._

_I could hear the barn start to shake with life. The familiar whinny of my horse followed by Charlie's and the pony came to my ears in quick succession. So Charlie was up and checking our gear._

_We weren't staying in Johnson City very long, perhaps the rest of the morning. Long enough to get some breakfast into us. After that it was back on the unbeaten trail heading for San Marcos, then up the river system to Basin Ridge. That's what the plan was last night at least. This morning, it may have changed already. That was the mind of the Colonel. You never could tell what would be happening._

_I slid my feet off my bunk and sat myself up._

_"Well, you getting up or not?" I heard Charlie's voice._

_He was standing in the doorway again._

_"Sure." I said. But I had to say more than that. I had to be honest. I was not returning with Ward and his only living daughter to the home I no longer had. I was not going back to soldering, or what was now left of it. I was moving on. I had to._

_"Plan on lighting out before she gets the drift." Charlie said._

_I nodded, agreeing. Alice was asleep a few feet away on the floor. She wouldn't get anywhere near me. We had taken refuge the night in the barn of a homesteader outside Johnson City. I wasn't one for staying in hotels in the bigger cities, neither was the Colonel._

_"Heading up to San Marcos?" He asked. We were in the aisle way of the small barn now. His horse was already tacked up and ready for him. I wondered just how long he'd been waiting for me to wake up. My horse was tied beside his. He was looking at me hungrily._

_I pulled half a biscuit from my pocket and held it under his big old lip for the horse to suck down. He was a chestnut with what the colonel called a shotgun ear, or an ear missing on oneside for some rookie during the war who'd shot his own horse instead of someone else's. He was happy as always for the surprise. Then again by now I doubt it was much a surprise. I always had something crumbling up my pockets for the gelding. I knew he had a harder life then what most horses have to endure. He had a right to a treat every now and again when I could spare it._

_"Making him fat off all that." Charlie said. He never much approved, mostly because my crumbs ended up in his clothes when the laundering came about._

_I paid him no mind._

_"Going up to Basin Ridge after that?" he asked._

_I shook my head. "Planning to head more west. Maybe Kansas city."_

_He nodded. "I figured as much."_

_"I know it's been a while and all . . ." my voice trailed. My saddle was on, I was cinching it up. "And it's not like I don't love seeing that little Alice."_

_"You just don't want my wife's cooking is all." He said._

_I looked at him. In the now dawning light I smiled. "Sure, Charlie. That's it."_

_"You going to get yourself into trouble without me?" he asked. He wasn't looking at me. He was focused on fussing with the pony's pack._

_I knew what he meant. He didn't have to say it. "I'll steer clear of the ale houses." I promised him._

_He pulled something out of the packs and held it a moment in the light of one of the lanterns. I could just make out it was a letter and that was just about all I could tell. Charlie often got letters from his little girl in the towns we laid over in. He kept hold of every one of them._

_This time he handed the letter to me._

_To my surprise it was not from Alice. Instead it was written by my Christie. Never much of a writer, this was the first letter I had ever seen in her hand. I didn't read it, not then, for fear that I may break apart. I left Ward, Alice, and the army for good. I never expected to go back._


	2. Chapter 2

again:still just a teaser

**FIRE IN THE SAGE**

_By PeechTao_

_Chapter 1_

It wasn't often these days I woke up screaming. But tonight was something special. It surprised me a little to say the least. What did not surprise me was finding Virgil already in the doorway of the bunk. He was looking in on me, as if I was some kid of his, and wondering if I'd eventually wake myself up. He was right, and I did. The tangible fear of sleep kept on. I had sweated through my clothes. My voice was hoarse with screams. And as I sat up my hands were still shaking. Or maybe it was all of me and I just couldn't tell.

Virgil didn't ask what happened. As far as he was concerned I was dreaming my crazy dreams again. Probably had Royce in it too.

I never told him any different.

"You all right?" He asked.

I looked up, surprised at him. I never knew when to lie to him. So I never did.

"No." I answered.

"War? Royce?" he asked the two main concerns I had ever faced in my life. He didn't know about my Christie. I half forgot about her in the bottom of a whiskey glass in Carson City. I never did keep my word to the Colonel about staying out of saloons.

"No." I said again.

Virgil got a curious look to his face. Like the one he got when there was a certain word he couldn't figure out in a book. Only this time he couldn't figure me out.

I was not about to remain in the bunkroom of the Sheriff office longer than necessary. It was obvious I wasn't getting any sleep even should I try. Virgil was there to catch me when I fell over. My legs for some reason refused to hold me up. Rebels.

"Hell, Everett!" Virgil swore. "You catching fever again?"

"No." I said.

"That the only thing you can say?"

I smiled. "No."

"Well get on your own feet for God's sake."

I did.

"Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I can."

"Gonna tell me what all that was about."

"Didn't figure on it."

We looked at one another. And after a while he nodded. "Fine. Your watch. I'm headed to the house."

Virgil propped his rifle by the door and headed out. He left me in the empty sheriff office with nothing but the sleepy Appaloosa town to look after.

The moon was high in the sky, close to the earth till it filled a good portion of all that was black above us. Stars were hardly visible in the background of the night. Horses could be heard milling around in the distance. A few drunks were singing up Spade Street on their way out of the saloon. Cato Tillson and Frank Rose were escorting them out.

What with the aftermath of the Appaloosa war on my behalf, Cato and Rose and decided to stay on as the bouncers for the Boston House and the other local saloons. Stringer, the territory Marshall came back through and re-deputized Virgil and me for sheriff. We had experience for that sort of thing. Pony Flores was still courting little Laurel. Going on three months and the man hadn't yet found the courage to put a ring on the girl's finger. Allie refused to let him in the house. Virgil was still Virgil.

It was perhaps three in the morning. Appaloosa was quiet enough we didn't need a person on duty at all times. It was over-kill already with Pony, Virgil, Rose, Cato and myself all working men. But the herds were coming up from the south and moving through the plains for market. A surplus of cowhands threatened to make the town upset and edgy. Virgil decided on the extra show of force. I can't see why I would disagree.

"Everett?"

I stood a little straighter in the office door jam. My gun was leaning near as tall as I was beside me. I recognized the voice.

"Evenin' Rose."

He mounted the deck and looked me up and down.

"Virgil send you over?" I guessed.

"No." he said.

"Surprised." I said.

"Heard you half way through the desert. Spooked the horses. Sent a coyote running out of the trash heap. I came to see if somebody shot ya."

"No one has."

"Now I see that."

"Tell, Cato." I said.

Rose turned around. From our spot we could just see a corner of the Boston House all lit up. One form was standing on the boards out front, propping a swinging door open. He held a shotgun.

Rose got down into the dirt road. He cupped his hand to his mouth.

"He aint dead!" he yelled.

The person went back into the saloon.

Rose turned to me and smiled. Even without the candles lit, I could see his face. Moon was bright enough.

"You all been doing an awful lot of worrying about me." I said.

"And don't we know it." Rose said. "Sick of looking after you. Thinking of moving on myself. After the cowboys get to moving on. Just too much fun around here with them."

"Man like you doesn't stick long." I said.

"That's right."

"Stuck around pretty long already."

"I aint arguing with that either."

He stood in the dirt road and moved his eyes around as if he was thinking up something to say. Something maybe Cole would have thought up. In the end he drew up blanks and said nothing. So, we stood there. Him on the road, me in the doorway, saying nothing to each other for a long time. Eventually he moved up and sat on the bench outside the office window. I sat beside him until the sun came up.

* * *

so there's the tease for you! please enjoy. This has been nearly a year in the making. Veterinary school does take up ohhhh so much time.


	3. Chapter 3

**ok, this still isn't finished being written, but i fee bad for not updating!**

**Fire in the Sage**

An Everett Hitch, Virgil Cole novel

Chapter 2

There were a few lines left. The paper was flimsy and course. There was a tear at the bottom where my horse had taken a chunk out of it one day. The creases were so worn it was hard to open it.

_Dear Everett._

_. . . Daddy says you'll be . . . fair on the southern side of the Ridge. Hope . . . and Momma tells me I . . ._

_You're _

_Chr_

That was all that remained of the letter Colonel Ward handed me as the last act of a father to a son. What made me pull it out and read it in the privacy of being on horseback four miles outside Appaloosa I will never know. Why I felt a compulsion to hide this part of me from everyone was also a mystery I may never understand.

My horse dropped his head into the desert dirt and pulled at the grasses he could find between the useless scrub. My reins hung loose around the pommel of my saddle. The sun was high and hot, but not near what summer had been. November was taking the crisp out of the air and the sweat off the sun. that didn't change the facts much. The minute Virgil had shown up I ran off with words that I needed to get my horse out for a jog.

We jogged all right. Half way to the next town. Sweating and blowing hard, I was lucky my gelding didn't drop out from under me. eventually I stopped. I read the letter. And that was it.

I took a breath. I folded the paper up then slipped it in my pocket. I hadn't thought about Ward since I had found Virgil. Now I began to wonder how they were. Alice must have been almost twenty-five now. Surely married. Ward might have left his soldiering behind to be with his wife. Could have had another kid since they were young enough.

It was a strange thing what the human mind decided to dredge up once in a while. I hadn't given much consideration to that part of my life save passing thoughts now and again. I knew I couldn't stay out in that desert much longer. Most likely Pony would be tracking me by now. It had been near seven hours since I rushed off like a fox escaping a burrow fire. I'm sure it set off a few red flags in town. So soon after getting myself nearly killed, Virgil wouldn't take kindly to me being out in the desert unattended for so long a time. Frankly, it was only four miles. It was plenty of time for Pony to have already come after me.

I should head back. And since I wasn't in a mind to have to be followed all the way home in silence, I twisted around in my saddle to take in the desert around me. Most likely I wouldn't be able to find him right off. He was good at what he did, and tracking people un detected is was it.

"Flores?" I called out into the dust. I turned my horse in place, pointing his nose toward home and knowing my lazy roan would take me there without a fuss. "You can come on out. Know you're there."

I kept my horse walking. Pony didn't pop out of wherever he was hiding at first. Perhaps he was a little disappointed in my ability to predict that he'd been there at all. Honestly I had no evidence of it beside instinct and knowledge of his past exploits. I continued on toward Appaloosa alone for a while. I was in no such hurry to get back as I had been to leave.

The sun was still high set, just ducking down behind my shoulders as I rode east to town. I passed the half dilapidated outbuildings of the Bragg Ranch along the way. Henry Peterson took on the place a month or so back, he'd only got so far as fixing up the house and barn in his aim at making the place go again with a herd of beef cattle coming in with some of the cowhands we expected by weeks end. I saw the outhouse just passed the creek where Virgil and I dragged Randall Bragg out. next came the creek itself, with the high dirt shelf on the opposite bank my horse struggled to get up.

Standing off by a patch of grass sprouting near the house was Peterson. He had a hoe in one hand and a rake in the other as he worked some dust out of his precious green. hearing the sound of hooves, he looked up and waved a hand over his head toward me. I waved back and kept on toward Appaloosa without stopping. Out on the long deck boards of the porch came Peterson's woman. Mrs. Betty Jean was a round frontier wife. Never seen without her apron, and even rarer still without some offering of food or drink in her hand. She came through the screen door with a glass pitcher of lemonade and tall glass of ice. Made me remember I had drank anything since leaving my canteen back in town.

"Mr. Hitch? that you?" She called off from the porch.

I waved at her, still somewhat determined to continue on my way regardless of the temptation she'd produced before me.

"You look like a dust heap blew you half way through Oklahoma! Henry not invite you in to rest a spell? Get yer horse over here and Mr. Flores too!"

Betty Jean was a good hearted woman. Stubborn as Hell with a southern hospitality that it was a sin to refuse. Not wanting to offend, I turned my horse into the former Bragg ranch. I cast a look over my shoulder to Pony Flores. I had no way of knowing how he had crept up on me, how his horse hardly made a noise doing it, and how long he'd been riding three feet back without my notice.

"Afternoon, Pony." I said.

He smiled. Obviously the Chiricuhua was pleased with himself. Of late he hadn't much need to go sneaking around town and tracking fugitives. I probably gave him a good time.

"Everett." He said.

"Been following long?"

"Long enough."

"When did you catch up with me?"

He shrugged. Sometimes he liked having his little secrets.

Pleased to have guests calling, even though they'd been threatened there, Mrs. Peterson left the tray of lemonade on the porch rail and bounded inside for another few glasses. Pony and I swung out of our saddles and left the horses tied to the hitching post on the other side of Henry's green. My roan pulled a little at his reins, eying the grass with a greedy hunger.

"Beautiful, aint it?" Henry said, setting his tools to the side. "Took a full month to get it going. rerouted some water from the creek to get it hydrating the ground better. Sorted through God knows how much seed over at the goods store in Carson City. Pretty soon this whole ranch'll just be full of it. Good grass, good calves, good beef."

I smiled. "Be a sight to see."

"Oh, Henry's so proud of that dang color it's all he goes on over." Mrs. Peterson said. She came through the swinging porch door again and set out the glass. From a cold box hidden under some Indian blankets she pulled out a few chips of ice and added them to our drinks. Pony and I took ours with a thank you ma'am each. Henry downed a few swallows of his own before going on.

"Had this man farming cattle on the Mesa Verdi. Hardest ground in the world out there. Had this seed take root like a weed and his cattle's selling top dollar above all other hands now. Now I don't want a few thousand head like he's got, but I think this'll get me enough to be comfortable out here, supply to town butchers here and in Derby. Be enough to keep us in meat during winter.'"

He looked at the green, smiled, took a sip of drink, smiled. "Not much more too ask for in life, is there?"

"Yeah," Betty Jean said, smacking his arm with the tray. " A gaggle of kids you aint given me yet."

Henry turned red, then purple. Pretty soon I was sure he'd be turning all colors of the rainbow if Betty hadn't started laughing at him.

"Two boys full grown," she explained to Pony and I. "One's in the army out east. Don't know why they need army in the east, but that's where he is. The other got a good wife and they're making their own go of it in California trying to strike gold. Wished them the best, but aint as easy as everyone's making it out. Won't stumble over your feet in the dark and find a nugget that'll feed ya for life. Now cows, everyone needs to eat. Don't they?"

Seeing as she was waiting for me to say something to that, I did. "People do." I said.

"That's right." She said.

"Less they don't eat meat." Pony said.

Betty Jean looked at him as if the thought never came to her before. But she was a smart woman, probably as much the brains behind taking on the Bragg place as her husband. "Well, everyone needs clothes and leather. Can't live out here without it." she said.

Pony grinned.

"That's right to." I said. "Fine plan, Mrs. Peterson."

"Sure is. When the boys come home, be a place for them too. Place to raise grand kids."

Nearly desperate now to get the conversation pulled from the idea of more children running all over his patch of grass, Henry changed the subject. "Where you commin' from, Deputy? Trouble out on the range?"

I shook my head. "No. Taking some sights."

"Afraid the rustlers had arrived with the herd early." Henry said.

"No, that I know they haven't."

"Be a thing to see."

"Lot of cattle. Lot of hands. Town'll be hopping for a little while." I said.

Betty Jean seemed a little worried. Her hands tightened up on her apron. "You thinking it may be trouble?"

"Lot of law in town too." Pony told her.

Her worry eased some, but I could tell the idea was still distressing.

Finishing our glasses, we said a goodbye to Henry and Betty Jean both. Pony and I swung up into our saddles and turned out of the front stretch again heading for town. I could see the corrals for the new cattle all trussed up with new beams and side poles off on the other side of the creek. Henry had worked hard getting this ranch going. He was a decent man, Betty Jean a good wife. It was hard to look at the new Peterson place without seeing the shadows of Bragg hanging around it still. Somewhere buried in that mesquite was the body of Jack Bell and his deputies. Probably never be found now, but that didn't mean the bones weren't still in the dirt without a proper send off. Never quite set right with me being on that land.

Pony tucked his horse beside mine as we headed within sight of the Appaloosa town. I could tell he was itching to ask something, but he kept it to himself. I was obliged to that, but it didn't make him sitting there any less uncomfortable. In the end I did something I hadn't before. I pulled out Christie's old letter and handed it to him.

Pony dropped the reins to his horse and pulled the letter to his eyes with both hands. It took him a while to get through the words and letters left over by nearly two decades. He folded it back up along the familiar crease lines and handed it to me.

"Girl?" he asked.

"Wife." I said.

Pony never startled easy. He was like Virgil in that respect, and maybe a little like me to. But if he didn't grab his horse's mane just then, he would have fallen right over the side of his horse. He straightened up, tried to get himself composed to say something but I could see the curiosity just reaching up and strangling him.

I sighed. "Hell."

"Didn't know you had a wife, jefe." he said.

"I know. _Had_ bein' key there."

"She run off?" Pony asked. "Letter she send to tell you?"

"She died." I told him.

Pony quieted.

"Flesh traders came through city she stayed. Got taken with some friends and her little sister. Father and I tracked them. We killed the traders. She was dead."

Pony cursed under his breath, shaking his head.

"Few apache, some Texans. Didn't matter who they were. Left the bodies. Took near sixteen girls out. Last thing I heard of her, man was raping her. That's how she died. Four months, body just gave up on her. Never knew I came."

Pony was quiet as he let me talk it out. I'd probably told that story a handful of times in my history. Mostly in a crowded alehouse after I'd drunk myself to stupor. West Point didn't do much educating in that area.

"Met Virgil, started marshaling. Left her family back in Texas. Haven't seen them since. Rest you know."

Pony cursed again. My story was a lot like the one of Laural. Guess he was thinking on what would happen if his girl had been stuck in the same spot. Didn't sit right with him thinking on it.

"'Preciate you keeping this quiet." I told him.

"Sure , Everett."

"Don't bother me if you tell Virgil. He asks, it's all right. Otherwise, I'd like to keep it quiet."

"Ok."

I still had her letter in my hand. I returned it to my pocket and together we rode in silence for a while. Pony was still fuming next to me. His horse felt it to and his muscles tense up like bowstrings. Wouldn't surprise me if Pony left my side at the city limits and ran off to Laural with that ring he bought from the general store. Life was getting short and neither of them were getting much younger.

"Sorry." Pony said after a time. "Saw you leave town. Got worried. Followed you out."

"Appreciate the concern." I told him.

"Think on her much?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No. Haven't much thought on it in years. Just sort of came on me. Suppose it happens that way. Hard things like that hang around."

"She ok?" Pony asked. "Sister? She turn out all right?"

I knew we were talking about Laural even if he didn't say it. "Don't know." I told him honestly. "She was plenty hurt. Ten years at the time. Shock was hard on her."

"She talk?"

"No, she didn't."

Pony looked down at his saddle. Then he looked out at the town getting bigger ahead of us. The sun was still hard at our backs, reminding us what a hot summer could do to a man. Distracted as we were, it didn't much bother us what the sky was doing.

"Laural talks." I told him. "Getting good at Chiricuha too."

Pony looked at me, then smiled. "Yes, she talks."

"Never really stopped. Just talked to Virgil is all."

"That's right."

"Men didn't touch her much. Her mother, but not her."

Pony nodded.

"Gonna finally put that ring on her?"

He didn't reply. But I saw his hand press into his breast pocket where the ring kept residence. Conversation stopped again and in silence we walked our horses back into Appaloosa.


End file.
